Not Ready To Make Nice
by Orwell is watching-xoxo
Summary: Dedicated to IronAmerica:To say that Tom Neville was protective over Danny Matheson was an understatement. He took him under his wing when he needed it the most, even if he didn't quite understand why he did it yet. FOHL 'verse, Danville/OT3.


**Hey! This is a birthday fic for my lovely IronAmerica! Happy Birthday, sis!**

**I own nothing, especially not the Fashion Of His Love 'verse. (Though, I was the one that suggested the title…)**

_**Not Ready To Make Nice**_

Tom Neville knew that his wife was right about Monroe. He was a risk to the republic, and everyone the republic controlled. He clenched a fist as he watched Danny Matheson crawl on his hands and knees like the dog that Bass had turned him into. The young boy couldn't speak anymore. All Neville ever heard out of him was a bark, a whimper, or a growl. Danny tried not to growl too much, however, because that usually led to beatings when he was with his old master.

The major felt sorry for him. He had been through so much, and had lived through so many beatings. When he welcomed the eighteen-year-old into his home, it was out of pure fear that Monroe would eventually be the cause of his death. Julia immediately fell in love with the boy, and became the perfect mother hen as she tried to help nurse him back to health.

It just about broke Neville's heart when Danny came to him with a ball in his mouth for the first time. He _really_ thought that he was a dog. The older man humored him for as long as he could, but eventually it just got to be too much.

Tom sat back in his chair and unclenched his fist, sparing Danny a tiny smile as he looked towards him. "Come over here, son. I won't bite." When the young boy flinched, Neville just sighed. "I mean it, Daniel. I'm not going to hurt you. You haven't misbehaved, not even nearly."

Danny whined and began to pad over to the major as though he were a dog walking over to his master, on all fours. He brushed his hand against Neville's, prompting another sigh from the older man.

"You're really afraid that someone's going to hurt you, aren't you?" Neville began to pet the teenager's head, as awkward as it felt. At least it made the boy happy.

The blonde boy whined again, though this time it was more of a happy whine that dogs did when they were being rubbed the right way. "Nev—" he tried to choke out. Tom's name had been one of the first human words that he had tried to say in quite a while. He hadn't necessarily gotten it out all of the way yet, but the kid was trying.

"It's alright, Daniel, you'll get there eventually," Tom sent another smile down to Danny, which actually made him smile just as well.

If there was anyone in this world that Danny appreciated more than his big sister Charlie, it was this man. Neville had taken him in when no one else would. His mother may have pretended to care, but Danny knew that, deep down, she could care less about him. She had given him, Charlie, and their father up to live in the lap of luxury for Christ's sake! Neville actually cared. Even when they first started out on the journey to Philadelphia, he still treated him better than anyone else did. Especially better than Richards treated him…

When Julia came into the room to tell her men that dinner was ready, she had to stop and stare at the image before her. Her husband petting Danny's hair was an adorable sight, especially when the younger one had his eyes closed and was leaning into the touch with the biggest smile on his face that Mrs. Neville believed that she had ever seen on him.

Tom caught his wife staring from the corner of his eye. He turned his head towards her and began gently, "Hello, Julia, how's dinner coming along?"

"It's done, actually," the woman added, crossing her arms as she stared back at the two of them. "Are you two hungry?"

"I think we'll find room somewhere, dear," Neville looked down at the young man, who looked like he was two seconds from cowering in fear. "Daniel, I want you to eat at the table with us. It's alright."

Danny whimpered, afraid that it was some sort of a joke. His old master had tried pulling a stunt like that… He was eating dog food for a week after that…

Julia came over to the younger blonde and held a hand out for him. "Come on, Danny. You need to fatten up some," she added, smiling brightly as he bumped his head against her hand.

Neville sat back and watched his wife coax Danny over to the table. He couldn't remember how to sit there like a human yet, but Tom knew that it would only be a matter of time.

Until then, there would be plenty of time for him to plot Monroe's murder out in his head… Whether he would actually go through with it was just a question that he didn't have the answer for yet. One thing was for sure, though, Tom would _never_ forgive Bass so easily for what he had done to the Matheson boy.

**And that's where I'll cut it off yet. Hope you enjoyed your fic, IA!**


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